


it's a beautiful day

by MashpotatoeQueen5



Series: let's dance in the kitchen and call it something like love [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s), And now he GETS BETTER, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Bruce Wayne Gets a Hug, Bruce Wayne is Soft, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is a Sap, Dancing, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Father Son Dance, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Growing Up, Happy, Happy Ending, Just a couple of years though, Love, Men Crying, Proud Bruce Wayne, Proud Parent Bruce Wayne, Reflection, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slow Dancing, Soft Bruce Wayne, Soft Parent Bruce Wayne, The Goal Is To Make A Little Hug For Your Heart, This Whole Fic Is Soft, Tim Drake Deserves Better, Tim Drake Feels, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Timkon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, happy feels, happy tears, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashpotatoeQueen5/pseuds/MashpotatoeQueen5
Summary: Tim and Kon are getting married, Bruce is an utter sap, and there is a father-son dance.
Relationships: Clark Kent - Relationship, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: let's dance in the kitchen and call it something like love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665436
Comments: 50
Kudos: 395





	it's a beautiful day

**Author's Note:**

> Take this: 2,500 words of PURE FLUFF

It's a beautiful day.

Leading up to the ceremony, that's all Bruce can think about. The sun is shining, a breeze softly shifting through, fluttering the decorations. It's warm. It is such a beautiful,  _ beautiful  _ day.

Or maybe that's just Tim, beaming so brightly it's like he's his very own sun in the sky. Every time he looks at Conner his grin just seems to get wider, and Bruce is so  _ soft. _

They're in Metropolis. Or, at least, close. If it was Gotham it would be cold and overcast. Clark had set up the aisle, the alter, and the whole ceremony had felt like a dream. Loius Lane had wrangled with new stations until she had surefire promises from all of them that no reporters would be attempting to sneak in.

“Consider it our wedding gift,” she had laughed, and Kon had nudged her shoulder with a teasing frown and she had smirked at him, and then she and Clark had bought the pair of them a  _ nice _ bag of coffee beans from Italy anyways.

He's just walked one of his kids down the aisle. Tim was officially and completely  _ married.  _ To a Kryptonian. 

Bruce has  _ kids.  _ Bruce has kids and they were growing up and getting married and this was his  _ life. _

Twenty years ago, Bruce could never have imagined being a part of this. Of having  _ this.  _

But a lot can change in twenty years. 

_ God,  _ he thinks,  _ When did I get so old? _

Tim laughs at something Kon says. They're dancing in the center of the cleared out "stage"- with three super speedsters in attendance, moving over all the chairs to the sides of the venue had been ridiculously easy- and there's music echoing over the grounds. It's gorgeous: some sort of private garden Bruce rented out for the occasion, flowers and sunshine and lanterns for later in the evening.

They're spinning around, not quite on beat with the song. The crowd watching is a mix of heroes and vigilantes and close civilian friends, of tears and smiles and impatience from the younger kids. 

Jon in particular is looking disgruntled, tugging at the tight suit he had to wear as ring bearer. Damian, besides him, is eating cubes of pineapple, for once looking unconcerned.

Stephanie is grinning and wiping at her eyes, her best "man's" dress already sporting grass stains at the bottom. Cassie, who had acted as Steph's counterpart but on Kon's side, is patting her sympathetically on the back, but her eyes are looking a little misty too. Bart, to the side, is openly sobbing.

...Bruce isn't sure what role he played, but he had been up by the alter, too.

It doesn't matter, either way, because it had gone off without a hitch and it had been full of laughter and choked vows and  _ joy _ and-

They're dancing, and Tim is smiling, and it's a beautiful day.

_ God,  _ he thinks,  _ when did I become such a sap? _

Bruce is bracing himself, he thinks. For when it's his turn to dance with Tim. He had opted out from giving a speech, leaving that to Dick - who had effortlessly switched out from his position as flower boy to do so, leaving the audience laughing and Kon snorting into Tim's shoulder and the whole garden warm.

But during the planning Tim had asked Bruce, directly, if he'd be comfortable with doing the Father-Son dance with him, and how could he say no?

He couldn't. Say no.

Clark and John and Mary will be switching out for Kon, but Tim had him, just him, and he wasn't about to fall short.

(There had been empty chairs in the front row. For friends gone, for family dead. Bruce knows two of them were for his parents, two for the Drakes, and it leaves him feeling a bit hollow and a bit warm, all at once.)

So he's bracing himself. He knows it's coming up. He knows the song. The steps. They went through it all during rehearsal last weekend.

But this time it's  _ real _ .

The song ends, the audience gives a smattering of applause, and Kon laughs and gives Tim a kiss, and-

Alfred is besides him in an instant, steady gnarled hand coming to rest on his shoulder. He had cried during the ceremony, wiping at tears innocuously with a handkerchief, but he seems perfectly content now, old and sentimental and happy to be alive. 

And Bruce breathes deep, walks over to accept his kid from his new husband, and settles himself with another deep breath, looking down.

Tim grins up at him. He's been grinning all day, looking healthy and happy, his neat black suit perfectly coiffed and his face flushed and bright. It's a good look, one Bruce wishes he could see more. One Bruce hopes will stick.

"Hi," his boy says, and Bruce feels something inside of him melt a little bit, grow even softer than it already has been all day long. He finds himself smiling back, small and real.

“Hello, there. Decided to deign me with your presence, I see.”

Laughter, mingling with the rising music. “Bru _ uce, _ ” the younger man murmurs, almost whining, mostly teasing, and he’s soft, he’s so _ soft _ .

His son just got married today. He didn’t think it was possible to be this happy. To be this  _ proud. _

“Tim,” he says, and maybe some of it leaks into his voice, as they start dancing, as they start spinning round and round. There is a whole wide world of people out there and he can’t think of anyone else he’d want to be with at this moment. Just this. Just his kid and the sunshine and the happiness spiraling all around them.

Tim blinks rapidly, tilts his head back, and then releases a hand to swipe at his eyes. "Sorry," he says, laughing, "I keep crying. It's been happening all day."

"Happy tears?"

His son's grin makes his eyes crinkle, misted over but so  _ bright _ .

"The happiest."

And Bruce hums, gives his kid a twirl.

"Good."

They dance.

Tim catches Kon’s eyes on one of their turns, sticks a tongue out at him. The other man must make a face back, because then his kid is laughing again, missing a step and then  _ beaming  _ up at Bruce until he’s chuckling, too. Just a little bit.

There’s a small commotion in the crowd. Cass has clambered on top of Duke’s shoulders in order to get a better look at the waltz, bare feet swinging. Bruce has no doubt that they’ll find her heels tucked away under some food table while cleaning up, grass stained and scruffed. Duke, for his part, seems resigned, adjusting to her weight and watching the proceedings with a warm look of contentment.

Good. No one deserves to be upset today. 

Tim is humming along with the song, quietly, under his breath. Perhaps he finds it awkward to be the center of attention for so long, all those eyes peering in. Bruce hopes that he knows all those eyes are full of joy and so much love. 

Because he is, apparently, an old sap at weddings. Who knew?

(Dick, probably. And Alfred. But they always were the exceptions.)

Cullen is to his left, balancing on Barbara’s wheelchair. She and Kara are idly talking, chatting about life and college and the world, a universe ahead of them and just out of reach. Cullen just watches them dance, and when he notices Bruce’s gaze he offers a small smile and a wave.

He spots Harper weaving her way through the crowd, a flash of blue hair and  _ massive  _ silver earrings. She’s wearing jeans and a nice top, because Tim had said he hadn’t minded and Kon had shrugged and told her he’d be doing the same thing, if his Ma wouldn’t  _ actually murder me, seriously, she’s been making my suit from scratch and I’m kind of terrified… _

Jason’s broad shoulders are following after her, and Bruce frowns and hopes they’re not getting into any shenanigans. They had  _ promised,  _ but they had both rolled their eyes while doing it, and he had his suspicions there was a prank coming up involving confetti and a flock of-

Tim squeezes his hand and all his attention refocuses: it doesn’t matter what his more rebellious kids are cooking up. They won’t do anything that’ll ruin the wedding, and he can worry about them on _their_ wedding days.

“You think too much,” his son declares, eyes twinkling, and Bruce raises an eyebrow at him, allowing himself to be twirled.

_ (When did Tim get so tall?) _

“Says you.”

His kid shrugs. 

“Says me. Now,  _ shh. _ It’s my wedding day. You’re legally not allowed to tease me.”

There is warmth in his chest and it is growing, bubbling up inside of him. It is so much, it is maybe too much, but he doesn’t want to run. Not this time.

He is a man built on so many broken things. He has ruptured and shattered and pulled himself back together with a bloodied grip and sheer power of determination. He had kept his aching pieces together in some semblance of a whole.

And he had thought that that was all there would ever be to it. This splintered chest he once had to breathe around, grating at his lungs. He had thought that that was all he could ever be.

And here he is, now. Here he is, a son, a friend, a  _ father. _ Surrounded by loved ones and surrounded by love, he feels it, welling up inside of him. So much brightness, so much joy, so much  _ warmth. _ He is so much more than the broken husk of a man he once was. 

Funny, how much watching your kids grow up makes you want to grow, too, become as best as a person as you can be for them, because they deserve the whole wide world and you can only give them what you can cup in your palms.

The music will be ending, soon. It tastes like goodbye. It tastes like newer and brighter things. Tim is so clearly happy and it feels like healing, feels like he’s done something right, if he got them both to this point, where they can dance under sunshine and not worry about the rest of the world.

But then, he supposes, he can’t take too much credit for that. Not when Tim has always been this tenacious spirit, this ongoing light against the dark, this brimming bright young man with a whole wide future in front of him. He’s going to do so many great things one day.

Afterall, he already has.

He leans down, pulls his kid close, brushes his lips against his boy’s forehead.

“I,” he says, voice cracking with an emotion he can’t quite name, “am  _ so proud  _ of you, sweetheart.”

Tim just clings tighter in turn, laughter muffled against Bruce’s shoulder. He expects he’ll find tear tracks on his suit later, and he can’t bring himself to care at all.

“I love you, B.”

He breathes around the lump in his throat, squeezes his kid tight, and they spin around and around and around. He thinks he could spend forever like this, dancing with his boy in his arms, soft and warm and happy.

He’s never been good with words. With talking. With  _ emotions. _ But today is a day for new beginnings, for sunshine, for vows and promises and letting go.

“I love you too, kiddo. So much.”

It comes out as a whisper, a secret shared between just the two of them: something warm and bright. Tim nods against his shoulder, and the dance deteriorates to the pair of them rocking together in a drawn out hug, on and on and on.

The song ends, and for a moment they just stand there, holding on to each other while a smattering of applause echoes across the grounds. 

His boy lifts his head, cheeks wet, smiles small and real. Bruce smiles back and lifts a hand to fix his son’s hair and straighten his tie, uses his thumbs to wipe at Tim’s eyes.

Calloused fingers catch his own, holding tight, pressing them against soft cheeks. Tim has a scar just above his lip, a small scratch on the back of his wrist. He’s got a lifetime ahead of him and a look in his eyes that says he can see right through Bruce, see all the soft and gentle warmth gathered in his soul.

No words need to be said, not for this.

Bruce leans down and presses a kiss to his son’s brow, and two more on either side of his eyes. Tim is smiling when he pulls away, and Kon is behind him, waiting patiently for his husband back, looking at Tim like he’s the most wonderful thing in the entire world.

At the moment, he might just agree.

Clearing his throat, Bruce nudges his boy in the right direction, right into Kon’s arms. 

The Kryptonian laughs upon seeing Tim, gesturing to his matching tear tacked face, and they fold into each other like it's been years since they were parted instead of a few scant minutes.

Bruce watches, and he smiles, and feels old and fond and soft, all at once.

A new song starts, and Tim and Kon are back to dancing, spinning round and round and round. Other people are starting to filter in onto the dance floor, too, and he spies Dick laughing as Wally dramatically dips him, Damian balancing serenely on Stephanie's shoulders in thick combat boots, the woman spinning in tight circles, trying to throw him off.

….he should probably put a stop to that.

Ma and Pa Kent are square dancing, and they wave when they catch his eye. Alfred is over by Cass, giving her a graceful spin while she laughs her bright and inelegant chortle. Duke is teaching Jason some sort of steps for a big group dance that'll doubtlessly coming up soon, Bart besides them practically vibrating in anticipation. Kara and Cassie are spinning on the dance floor, Clark dipping Louis, Harper jiving by Cullen and Barbara, trying to cajole her brother into a wilder movement than the simple shuffle he has going on.

And Tim and Kon are dancing in the middle of it all, on and on and on, so wrapped up in each other the rest of the world must not even seem to exist.

Tim's smiling. The sun is shining. Bruce is an old sap and surrounded by people he loves.

He tips his head back and closes his eyes, breathes it in.

It's a beautiful day.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you have any people you'd like me to write dancing together next? It can be in the wider DCU: it doesn't necessarily have to be Batfam.
> 
> (Though I haven't watched Season 3 of Young Justice yet, so maybe no spoilers for that?)
> 
> If you don't have anyone in mind, what's your favourite song about dancing? Or always has you dancing no matter how many times you listen to it? Or maybe just means a lot to you? Possibly you already know precisely what song you want to dance to if you ever get married!? (or already danced ehhhh boi congrats!) 
> 
> I always love new music! <3
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
